Which reminds me, did I ever tell you that when The Sister and I were little, our parents used to go to Disney World every year? Yes, they did. And we didn’t. I think they took her once, but I could be misremembering. Maybe they just got her a nicer sweatshirt than they brought me. Ancient memories can play funny tricks.
Look, I was only little but even then I wondered if they weren’t going on sex tours or something instead of really going to Disney World, particularly given my mother’s fondness for NOT going on rides. All I know is, every year they came back with cheap tee shirts and bags and bags of grapefruit.
Yeah, they left a sour taste.
Sounds better than being stuck in the back seat with three other siblings and two chain-smoking parents in the front. And then after an interminable hellish drive through the wilds of Manitoba…CAMPING. Count your blessings, young lady!
I dunno; you forget, I was little in Manitoba, too. I went camping there, back when I was small enough to be carried off by the mosquitos. Also: you didn’t spend a month every winter with my grandparents, who were not exactly kid-friendly. Grandma started with her first beer at dawn. With ice cubes, because she was a lady.
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True. I was always too FAT to be carried off by mosquitos, and I didn’t have to spend one month every winter with drunken Grandma. Instead I got to spend every day with drunken mother (who couldn’t be bothered to put ice in her 5-star whiskey).
Hey, we could do this all day – okay, your turn!
My dad drank that. Alberta Springs, 5 stars. We used to ask him to get a particular brand so we could play with the tassel. We knew we were rich when we got Crown Royal bags to play with.
NOT joking.
I used to carry my lunch to school in those brown paper liquor store bags. Never figured out if it was better to find mother passed out after school or not, but we loved it when she would try to sober up by ordering chinese food – we’d hang around like vultures to see if there’d be any leftovers.
When we left Winnipeg, we didn’t go back for ten years, and when we did, I didn’t remember the way to school, but I did remember the way to the beer store.
I also got out of Winnipeg for awhile as a child, but ended up living 500 miles NORTH in a hellhole mining town called Thompson. Ah, those were the days…
i think you are right : Sounds better than being stuck in the back seat with three other siblings and two chain-smoking parents in the front. Thank you for share.
Hey, I didn’t even get to the bit where I lived in a cardboard box and had to get up before I went to sleep!
Oh, THEY had it soft!